


Hazy

by Maraculate



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), But it's in a nightmare, Fluff, I would say graphic depictions of violence, In their own house, Light Angst, Living Together, Love, M/M, Nightmares, They're 21, it's probably fine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-06-25 12:15:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15640563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maraculate/pseuds/Maraculate
Summary: Just your typical 'Jeremy has a nightmare' fic :)Edit: Holy fuck this story is getting no hits at all. It's not a typical nightmare fic, so either the summary was off-putting or the one-shot just sucks ass.





	Hazy

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this last night and it honestly sucks like wow. I thought this was good when it was eleven at night, but looking at it the next day was like getting cold water thrown in my face. Oh well, I'll still post it.

The two swings groaned lazily in the wind, and Jeremy’s eyes opened. He hadn’t realized that he had dozed off for a little bit. Michael was right beside him, too.

 

“Hey.” Jeremy poked his boyfriend. Michael smiled at him and petted a cat in his lap. They had a cat? Since when?

 

Jeremy blinked twice. The cat had dark spots all over it, but its fur was mostly white. A disease?

 

“Hello,” Michael said. His voice was a bit robotic, but not in a way that set off any alarms. It was just… dull.

 

Jeremy looked up at the sky. The blue seemed to be getting dimmer by the second, and the sun’s orange rays flickered a bit. Or was Jeremy just blinking too fast and the phosphenes were messing with his vision?

 

“Yin is sleepy. We’re sleepy.” Michael petted his cat. It purred and jumped off his lap.

 

“Where’s it going?” Jeremy asked. He looked out to the cat’s trajectory and found it was going into the road.

 

“Oh, no!” Michael’s voice finally had emotion. He jumped off the swing and Jeremy followed him. The cat moved towards the road and looked back. Michael ran in the street and shoved the cat out of it.

 

Jeremy looked to the right and saw a truck heading full speed right towards Michael. Its lights were like eyes, boring holes into Jeremy’s soul.

 

“No…” Jeremy whispered. “Michael, watch out!” He cried.

 

Michael turned his head and faced the truck. He let out an audible gasp before it slammed into him. 

 

Blood sprayed everywhere. It got on signs, the street, the cat, and some of it landed on Jeremy. He looked at the broken corpse, and knew that Michael’s arms weren’t supposed to bend that way.

 

“I need… I need someone’s help!” Jeremy ran over to his boyfriend’s body. He felt for a pulse. Nothing. Everywhere Jeremy moved his hands, there were fountains of blood waiting. It leaked all over his pants and he screamed.

 

The Squip was standing nearby, watching with a quiet glee. Jeremy faced it and gave it a look of unrestricted fury.

 

“What did you do? You did this to Michael, didn’t you?” Jeremy accused it.

 

“You need someone to blame, don’t you? Look in a mirror and wake up, Jeremy. Wake up…” Its voice echoed. Jeremy could feel his face heat up. Tears flowed from the internal and external pain.

 

His eyes snapped open again. Michael was hanging over him. Jeremy stared at the time with a haunted expression. 4:32 A.M.

 

“You’re… dead,” Jeremy whispered.

 

“I’m still alive and kicking, unfortunately,” Michael murmured. Jeremy flinched at that last word. “Right, sorry. What happened?” His tone switched from casual to concerned.

 

“You were dead. You got hit by a car. You saved Yin, some cat, but the blood was  _ everywhere _ . It landed on me and I couldn’t help but scream.” Jeremy’s face contorted. He was never a pretty crier. His lips quivered, his eyes scrunched up, and a lot of snot was released. Michael grabbed a tissue box and Jeremy sobbed into it. He made a few ugly blowing sounds and threw the tissue in their garbage. “I’m disgusting… the blood, the tears, the… snot.”

 

“Hey, hey.” Michael sat back down on the bed. He wiped Jeremy’s tears away with his thumb and kissed his eyelids. “You’re not disgusting. I think you’re really hot, but I don’t say it enough because emotions terrify me,” he admitted. “But, I think this is a special case. Jeremy, I’m not dying anytime soon. I love you, and I think you’re fantastic,” Michael tried. “Ugh, trying to be comforting is difficult when you’re as emotionally lacking as I am.”

 

“You’re not…” Jeremy shook his head. “You’re f-fine, Michael. You’re enough for me, so just please. Stay. You just being here is… enough. No words are needed. Not… at all.” Jeremy was slurring a few of his words. He had no clue what was going on. “The Squip… it was in my dream.”

 

“I can’t promise that it’ll ever go away,” Michael whispered. “But I can promise that it won’t come back. All it can do is scare you. Like Pennywise. He can only hurt those who fear him. You have no reason to be afraid,” Michael tried. He was really pulling most of his comforting platitudes out of his ass, but Jeremy let out a weak chuckle before blowing into his tissue again.

 

“Fuck…” Jeremy murmured. “When do I get this emotional over a fucking nightmare?” Jeremy chuckled.

 

“There are firsts for everything, Jere,” Michael shrugged. “I’ll hold you really tightly while we sleep, okay? That always helped me through nightmares as a kid.”

 

Jeremy let out a shuddering breath. “I don’t think the nightmares will go away, Michael.” He stood up. “I’d rather stay awake.”

 

“It’s too early to be awake. You’ll be too exhausted by dinner.” Michael stood up, too. He silently cursed himself. Why couldn’t he just do this right?

 

The faint glow of the lamp showed Jeremy’s apprehension at the idea of going back to sleep. He gripped Michael’s hand for a few moments before letting it go. “Go back to sleep, then. Don’t exhaust yourself for me.”

 

Michael knew exactly what he was going to do, instead. “I want to help. I just don’t know how,” he admitted.

 

“Make coffee? That would be a start,” Jeremy suggested. He didn’t know if he wanted to be alone or not. It was too confusing and his vision was splotchy.

 

Michael kissed Jeremy’s forehead and led him upstairs. Their house wasn't too big, but that was the way they liked it. It made it that much more homier. They hadn’t gotten married, yet, but that was okay. 

 

He started up the coffee machine and kept an arm around Jeremy’s waist. “The coffee creamer is in the fridge,” Michael whispered.

 

Jeremy opened it and handed it to Michael. He poured a generous amount of sugar in both cups and then the creamer. 

 

“I’m sorry about all this. I just can’t sleep knowing that you might die in my dreams.” Jeremy spoke up after three minutes of tense silence.

 

“I’m not upset, Jeremy. I don’t run on a lot of sleep, anyway, so I’m okay. I just want you to be alright,” Michael murmured.

 

“But what if I’m not alright? What if this keeps becoming an issue?” Jeremy stood up.

 

“Then we’ll work through it. That’s just what we do. You can take Nyquil or we can try therapy. If it doesn’t revolve, I’ll help you... somehow,” Michael insisted.

 

“You make it sound like I’m a mental hospital patient,” Jeremy growled. He gripped his coffee handle tighter.

 

“I’m not! I just want to help!" Michael countered.

 

"Well, you’re doing a  _ fantastic  _ job!” Jeremy chuckled. “You’re really playing the boyfriend of the year card!”

 

“What is that supposed to mean? You woke up at four in the morning, and all I’ve been doing is trying to calm you down!”

 

“Do I look calm to you?” Jeremy spluttered. He couldn’t help but break into sardonic chuckles. “You were trying to make jokes after I had a nightmare of you  _ dying _ ! Do you know how mortifying that is? You’re acting like this doesn’t concern you! You’re only upset now because I called you out on it!”

  
“Okay, wait, that’s not-”

 

“Like I said, now you want to act all caring boyfriend trademark and-”

 

“I always make jokes when you’re upset, you always laugh-”

 

“You make jokes when the situation is light! There’s a big difference between me being insecure about something stupid and me having a dream about you getting hit by a  **_fucking truck!_ ** You don’t even know how much blood there was! It was everywhere!” Jeremy broke down again.

 

“We can talk and work through this! I’m not leaving your side, as harsh as your words may be! Because that’s what good boyfriends do!”

 

“What could you  _ possibly  _ know about being a good boyfriend?” Jeremy was ready to rip his hair out.

 

Michael furrowed his brow and stomped to the basement. 

 

“Go! Go cry about it for all I care! Good job, by the way, on keeping your promise that you made five seconds ago!” Jeremy shouted. He took his coffee cup and sat on the couch. He tapped his foot incessantly and stared at the coffee in his cup. 

 

The coffee didn’t help the coldness in his chest. No, not the coldness in his chest. The chill of his entire body. He stared it, gritted his teeth, and dumped part of the contents on his arm.

 

It scorched his skin and turned it red and furious, just like Michael was. He let out a sob of anguish as it ripped and burned his arm. Every nerve came alive as the coffee continued to indent itself into his arm.

 

“Fuck!” Jeremy snarled. He gripped his arm with his other hand and instantly let go of it. Bad move.

 

Jeremy hyperventilated, but for a different reason. He wasn’t completely stupid, however. He ran to the sink and stuck his arm under the cold water. The pain flared up before it ameliorated the burn.

 

“Hah, hah, hah,” Jeremy panted. He grimaced and stared his arm. He would probably get a scar from that. He also had to clean up.

 

While he was scrubbing at the couch and floor with a paper towel, he found that his cheeks were damp. He couldn’t tell if the tears were angry or sad or frustrated or all three at once. Either way, they fell on the floor and Jeremy cleaned those up before practically clawing at his face.

 

He grabbed more paper towels and didn’t care about the soreness that he knew he would feel. If anything, he would welcome it. Jeremy burned his face by scratching with the paper towel and threw it in the garbage. Once again, he felt a dampness on his cheeks.

 

After punching the counter, he ran inside the bathroom and stared at himself. His arm and face was red, his nose was leaking a few boogers, his tears were all over the place, and his hair was sticking up everywhere.

 

Jeremy wanted to punch the mirror until that damned reflection disappeared. 

 

He didn’t want to admit that he was in the wrong, but he knew it was true. Jeremy was just scared that his bitterness was going to take over the next time he saw Michael.

 

What if he made Michael leave him?

 

The thought made Jeremy start shaking again. He shivered and his breaths came out shakily. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

 

Jeremy knew that he was going to say the wrong thing. He was going to make everything worse. All because of one stupid nightmare. Jeremy gingerly touched his arm and hissed. Even a ghost of a touch was enough to send him into waves of pain.

 

He grabbed his coffee, downed the last few sips, and threw it in the dishwasher. He gripped the counter and muttered more curse words under his breath. He was ready to pass out, but Jeremy knew that was going to be impossible after what just happened.

 

Maybe he could at least keep himself from being high-strung if he apologized. It was his fault for blowing up. Michael didn’t deserve his angsty bullshit, and he knew that. Being petty was only going to get him hurt. Again. In which way, Jeremy wasn’t sure.

 

Jeremy walked downstairs and knocked on the door. 

 

He heard a gentle pattering of footsteps and Michael opened the door. He looked better for wear, but his eyes were watery and his glasses were askew. 

 

Jeremy covered his arm before Michael could see it. “I’m sorry.” Was that going to be enough for Michael? Jeremy thought Michael to be pretty forgiving, but he really fucked with him earlier.

 

Michael looked surprised instead of angry. Did he think that Jeremy was just going to yell at him more? 

 

“I… I was unfair,” Jeremy choked out. “Shit.” He wiped at his tears again. “Ow. Crying hurts now because…” He caught himself. He wasn’t about to explain that he was blistering his skin to feel something other than mental anguish. “Nothing. Michael, I’m sorry. I was an idiot and I shouldn’t have been so rude when you were doing your best. If you don’t want to talk, I’ll go back upstairs and… just hang out,” he finished lamely. “Ugh, whatever. I didn’t plan this through.”

 

Michael didn’t stop him from leaving. Jeremy couldn’t blame him.

 

He flopped on the couch and checked for new notifications. Nothing early in the morning. He buried his face in the couch and hoped that sleep would magically take him away. It didn’t. Jeremy rubbed his eyes and winced. So much of him hurt. It was slamming him with no mercy, and it was like he couldn’t breathe. 

 

The ringing silence was the only partner he had in the living room. It didn’t comfort or berate him. It didn’t warm or cool him. 

 

He may not have been alone, but he was lonely.

 

Jeremy twisted and turned on the couch. It would’ve been the prime opportunity for the Squip to come back and berate him, but it didn’t. 

 

It was just like Michael said. It wasn’t coming back. It could only scare Jeremy, like Pennywise.

 

Well, jokes on the Squip. Jeremy was only scared of losing Michael. He was a light in Jeremy’s life, and he knew that he was a fool for shoving him away.

 

“Jeremy,” Michael said. Jeremy looked up and saw Michael leaning against the doorway.

 

“I don’t expect you to forgive me. If you’re just saying sorry out of pity, then this will only get worse.” Jeremy looked at him.

 

Michael walked over and kneeled in front of the couch. He gripped Jeremy’s hands and looked at his arm. Jeremy shirked his arm with the burn away.

 

“What happened?” He asked.

 

“I burned myself. Coffee spilled. I’m okay,” Jeremy gulped.

 

Michael muttered ‘fuck it’ under his breath and pulled Jeremy into a tight hug. The breathless feeling returned, but it was a mixture of hot and cold. He wasn’t sure what to do, so he just let his arms lay limply at his sides.

 

“I’m okay, Michael. If you’re willing to forgive me, I’m okay,” Jeremy murmured into his ear.

 

Michael said, “I know you’re not.”

 

Jeremy didn’t want to cry again. He chuckled in a depressing tone, “I’m really not.”

 

Michael murmured something in his ear. Jeremy assumed it was an apology.

 

“Why did you come back?” Jeremy questioned after a few moments of silence.

 

“I realized just how impossibly stressed you were. You were scared, and I wasn’t helping matters by getting angry. I couldn’t imagine you dying, dream or not,” Michael told him. “That sounds horrific. So, I’m sorry, too. Next time, we can both be better, right?”

 

Jeremy was about to cry.

 

“I love you,” Michael said.

 

“Yeah…” Wet trails stormed down. “I love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> MushieR's animatic of Kagerou Days inspired this fic partially. 
> 
> I love messing with people. Betcha thought you were going to get a cutesy nightmare fanfic, huh? Nah, bitches.


End file.
